


Friday Was Supposed to be Bro-Night

by nogitsune_lichen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Death, Epic Bromance, Feels, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Reckless Driving, Sorry Not Sorry, Unhappy Ending, am i right or am i right?, background sterek, because sterek, scott and stiles are just bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:45:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogitsune_lichen/pseuds/nogitsune_lichen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One car ride can change everything; in the case Scott and Stiles had bro-night planned but the universe has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Was Supposed to be Bro-Night

"Okay checklist Scotty," Stiles said while using one hand to turn down the radio, "do we have burritos?"

"Check."

"Soda?"

"Check."

"Condoms?"

" _What_?!"

"Kidding dude. Candy?"

"Check."

"Advanced Warfare?"

"Check."

Stiles smiled and took a left onto the nearly bare express way to Scott's house. Their checklist was fulfilled and with supernatural bullshit behind them for now they could finally enjoy a Friday night like they used to. Nostalgia hit both of them hard and at first when they got in the car they seemed a little hesitant. Five minutes later Taylor Swift came on the radio and they couldn't help but belt it out like tone deaf seals. It was nice to have normal again. Normal was good.

Scott was flipping through his phone while Stiles' thumbs idly tapped to the beat of the song. It was weird though because it was Friday and people usually take this way back to Hill Valley if they work up in Beacon Hills. It was empty besides his car and the occasional old lady Buick passing by. Brushing it off the sudden brightness of Scott's phone made him slightly curious. Glancing over the old Flappy Bird app was going off and the annoying dings rang through out the cabin of the Jeep.

"Really dude?" Stiles teased checking the road before looking back.

Scott rolled his eyes, "It's a good game. Now shush I'm gonna get to twenty!"

"That's your high score-?"

" _Stiles the road_!" Scott suddenly screamed and Stiles bolted up only to be blinded by a pair of headlights.

Taking action he attempted to swerve out of the way but his arms tensed up as the sound of metal on metal erupted and the sound of squealing tires pierced the air. Everything felt weightless; from the painful press of the seatbelt to the blood rushing to his head as the Jeep did many, many, _many_ , rolls. Scott's screams were barely and echo as white noise filled his ears. The more they rolled the closer the ceiling got to their heads but soon it was over and landed on his side of the car, Scott leaning towards him. The only thing keeping the werewolf from falling on top of him was the seatbelt.

Finally calming, Stiles looked around, waving around the smoke and coughing a bit before smiling.

"I can't believe we're okay-"

"S-Stiles..."

"Dude that was like a rollercoaster ride-"

"Stiles..."

"Where the hell are our phones-"

"Stiles Stilinski!" Scott demanded and Stiles but a foot in his mouth.

Scott pointed to the wheel and Stiles looked down to see many different shards of metal jutting out and vanishing into his torso under the deflated airbag. He felt himself pale as deep crimson oozed out and around the metal, staining the white bag in thick globs. Pain flowed through him slowly like a throb before it just hit him and it came crashing in like tsunami waves. Stiles gasped, flailing a little only to get more pain added. Scott was furiously trying to get free of the seatbelt. Meanwhile Stiles was just focused on not moving because as a kid Scott got a thin piece of wood through his arm when Rafael put together a shitty play set in the back yard. If he remembered one thing with puncture wounds was to never take them out.

His vision went hazy, and not because he felt sleepy because he didn't, it was due to tears in his eyes. The salt water tinging until they fell. His mom always said he had crocodile tears, bigger and angrier than the rest.

"Don't panic buddy. I-I got the belt off, maybe I can flip the car or something. Just don't panic." Scott tried but Stiles already felt an attack come on.

His breathing was frantic and fuck staying still, he felt too cornered and small and he needed out. Not caring about the pain he tried to rip himself backwards away from the metal with furious an breathless cries. He knew this wouldn't do much but he wasn't rational right now and most likely freaking Scott out. However when he went limp after several hard shoves back he noticed Scott climbing through the windshield, almost oblivious to the glass cutting him up. Watching with foggy vision Scott eventually did get the car back on it's shredded wheels. Stiles felt breathing become easier but slowly his body begin to get numb and cold.

" _'Ott_." Stiles groaned, seizing a bit as a fresh wave of pain.

Scott opened the driver's door, well ripped it off, "I'm here. I'm...here, _oh my god_."

Stiles raised an eyebrow lazily following the wolf's eyes to his side where a bit of odd looking pink stuff was slowly pushing itself out of him. Holy shit balls that was an organ! Raising a finger he poked it gritting his teeth when pain once again hit him like a train. After it subsided he let out a laugh, something turning into a cackle until it moved his insides too much.

"Why are you laughing?" Scott asked, horrified.

"I'm a shish kabob, I'm dying in the form of yummy food." Stiles replied, laughing a bit softer this time.

"Dude."

Stiles winced, "Sorry. Not...uggh...cool."

Scott perked up looking down the road, "Sirens, a few minutes away. Just hold on they can help."

The sound of living sounded like a damn golden ticket. There was a lot of things he wanted to live for; his dad, Derek, sex, college, Scott, the pack, maybe kids ten or fifteen years from now. But the urge to sleep was getting stronger and suddenly this felt like the Kanima all over again because he couldn't feel anything from the neck down. Gasping for air because he was pretty sure one lung was totally busted he held Scott's hand. When they were little they'd hold hands when they didn't feel good. When one was sick, they held hands. When Scott's dad left, they held hands. When his mom died, they held hands.

" _Don't_. Don't because," Scott broke down into a sob, "because your my b-best friend, my brother and you're gonna be here tomorrow and the next day for years dude."

Stiles swallowed, letting tears fall again but silently. For some reason words just couldn't be formed and things started to echo again which just wasn't right. Squeezing Scott's hand he let his eyes slip shut only to be shaken back open. Scott looked like a mess and behind him flashing lights began to pop up and become audible. Somehow the look of just pure tiredness made Scott go limp, breaking down even more; he understood.

"What do I tell your dad. What I tell Derek?" Scott muttered shaking just as much as him at this point.

Stiles licked his lips groaning at the throb from his torso. " _Diet...l-l'vvve_." Damn it, love just couldn't get out of the his mouth.

The last thing he heard was Scott's sobs. The last thing he felt was numbness. The last thing he did was smile.

It as bro-night after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry! I've just been reading a lot of death!fics lately and I just sort of had this suck in me. However I feel sort of happy I got this out so yeah sorry it was at the expense of your feels. Thanks for reading.


End file.
